Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1887-08-19
TWAS EVER THUS.
BY JAMES FRANKLIN Fits.

BY JAMES FRANKLIN Fits.
The Reverend Ralph Braidwood is one
ri the few men of whom it could be truly
SAID that he was perfectly designed for the
vocation that he adopted. Natural taste,
SIZE bent of his mind, the order of his abil-
Sly. and the generous warmth of his soul
NIL pointed him uneirinely to the path of
asfB in which he has walked with marked
age Of 60 he is much the same man that he
1aas nt q. Years Of experience in the min
5yNTy have, of course, matured his mind
aa,d developed his understanding; but they
hnse not cooled the ardor Of his labors in
shc hish service Of his Master, nor have
aasy chilled the steady, cheerful glow of
ahe soul that is devoted 10 the salvation of
:nen. His hair is dashed with gray now,
and his form is less erect: but both face
amt form are suggestive of the manly beauty
Df The divinity student Of 81 or %, whom
fpsople looked at twice on the street, and
snrDed round to see again, often with the
Insanark, AWhat handsome young mani"
~ WAS at that period Of his life, when
BE was finishing his theological studies, that
<eapse application to his books somewhat
IMPAIRED his health. he was advised by
bis physician to take a months vacation in
9fhe country, leaving all books and studies
behind him. He consented-not without
zeiuctance. Upon this unusual change in
assa current of his student life being made,
We End hi1a established ct little inn ten
snases beyonda railway. This he proposed
40 make his headquarters while he prose-
ssntea a series of pedestrian excursions
sabnat the country, which should bring him
;renewe5 health and strength.
As 10 this general purpose, it is sufficient
10 say that he thoroughly accomplish it.
dzssd in rough walking-suit, with a soft
Ans upon his shnpely head, and with a
siput stick in his hand, Mr.. Braidwood
Sock long walks in every direction, along
highways and byways, sometimes quitting
hnsi, and occasionally getting himself lost
sn the woods. The season was the glorious
i1ssnthern October; nature WAS holding high
carnival, the air was crisp and bracing, the
SIM mild, everything exlilirating. But
1or one incident and its results, Mr.. Braid
Uno would be able to look back upon this
inr "a as time of unalloyed satisfaction.
j >ras near sunset one day that he was
lsei ling to the inn from one Of those ex-
azu ms. A picturesque pile of rocks
ssai distance from tho highway had at
ssnetcd his attention, and upon inspecting
aaenL he was regaining the road by short
e-nt. While doing SO. ne blunderel upon a
se1y charming picture. Mich be paused to
tzmsiempinte.
ghere was deep, walled. about spring,
where the water dubbed up as clear as
CRYSTAL. A girl, clad in q rustic dress, with
"a sstsaF hat on her head, was kneeling by
it 30 fill her tin pail. Her attitude was
aznssaaied grace itself; but when she arose,
Ma. B1aidwood was charmed 10 find her
dase one of rare beauty.
She was startled at the presence of q
assanger. He greeted her politely, and
asked for drink. She filled the tin dip
ssnr that lay by the stones. and handed it
10 him. While he was drinking she shot
8ashful glance at him. We will take adj
vantage of the situation 10 say that her
Znnms was Sarah Bartlett; that she was the
sselle of the neighborhood, greatly sought
zzaRer by the swains. and that she locked
with no favor upon any of them. She was
quest seventeen.
MI Bzaidwood addressed few common
1anccs to her, to which she answered little.
Hs offered to carry her pail. She family
objected; but he took it up and walked by
4sr side, talking of the beautiful landscape
0nd The glorious weather. In five minutes
he had almost put her at ease; had told her
who he was, and what he was doing in that
xscinity; and if he did not ct that time OBJ
xsIn her name, it was because he did not
akk for it.
HE babe her good-day as they approached
tsie farmhouse which she told him was
her home. An old man in his shirt sleeves,
saanding by the fence, had observed their
nPrroach and their parting, and he interro-
gated his daughter somewhat harshly:
SET, wllo was that"
80 ian who ASKED ne for a drink
81 ag, and tLcn would carry my
pa o. t want 10 set him, but he
:. 49,.
We'll, We dout want any gentleman
:arossnd here. guess Sol Pettengill's good
~noueh for you; he is for me. Dye
Aear."
Bhe hurried on 10 the kitchen, and es-
mapped her fathers wrath.
BIZ. Braidwood walked home reAectively.
II any reader supposes that this interview
had touched any tender chords in his
Arsast, that reader is nistaken. The man